


Beautiful Bliss

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, M/M, Praise, Riding, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is beautiful, and that's the end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/bottomderek/status/692016168773754881). I regret nothing.
> 
> Unbetaed.

Stiles has a mixed relationship with words. He loves them, he really does. He's good at them and they're his main method of attack nine times out of ten. But sometimes the little shits turn on him, getting him into messes difficult to get out of, and more often than not they don't seem to want to wait for his brain to catch up. So, yeah, it's complicated.

 

But right now, only a single word comes to mind: _beautiful_.

 

He used to think that if he looked up beautiful in a dictionary there'd be a picture of Lydia Martin, and in his mind every synonym of the word could be attributed to his strawberry blonde goddess. But, like with so many other things, growing older changes a person. Changes their perception of things. Stiles still thinks Lydia is one of the most beautiful people in the world, because he's not blind, and certain things will always carry sentimental value. Over time, however, someone else beat Lydia to first place, and no one was more surprised about this than Stiles.

 

Derek Hale glared, growled and snarked his way to number one on every one of Stiles' top tens, and as the years go by he only solidifies his position. Stiles can't say he's unhappy with that, especially considering the position they're both in, currently.

 

Stiles' fingers leave indents on Derek's hipbones as they move, more to give Stiles something to hold on to than to guide Derek in any way. Because he moves all on his own, almost can't stand not to, judging from how impatient and hungry he is sometimes, eagerly climbing into Stiles' lap at the tiniest invitation.

 

It makes sense. Derek is so sensitive, in ways Stiles is almost envious of. Because he sure never shuddered out a whining sigh just from being gently fingered, and prostate stimulation feels more medical than sexual most of the time. But Derek will shove himself back against whatever he can get, and come all over himself without even touching his dick. Stiles is impressed, frankly.

 

But never more impressed than in times like these. Times where Derek seems lost in it, slamming himself down onto Stiles' hard cock in a seemingly endless rhythm, mindless to anything but his own need. Stiles would almost feel used if it wasn't so brain-meltingly good, and if Derek didn't look so goddamn... _beautiful_.

 

Because he does. Head thrown back in slack-jawed pleasure, his tan skin flushed a deep red, and sweat trickling down his chest, he's a vision of erotic bliss, and Stiles feels weirdly like crying just from looking at it. Probably because Derek deserves everything. All the orgasms and good feelings in the world, Stiles wants to give them all to Derek, because Stiles _loves_ him, loves him so hard and so intensely it makes his obsession with Lydia seem superficial and childish. Stiles wants to make Derek happy more than anything else, and seeing him like this makes it feel like he's succeeding.

 

“Beautiful... fuck, so beautiful,” Stiles pants, and he's not even sure that's something you can really say to a dude, but Derek seems okay with it. More than okay, if the way he whimpers is anything to go by. He leans back to brace himself on Stiles' knees, and his cock bounces against his abs as he picks up the pace, and moans. The angle is just right, and Stiles makes sure not to hold on too hard, leaving Derek free to move where he needs to, free to take what he needs.

 

“Yes, fuck, Derek, come on, _come on_ ,” he coaxes, loving how it makes Derek cry out, muscles bunching and flexing. Finally, they tense and lock, as Derek comes in long streaks all the way up his chest and neck, a final trickle pooling in his belly button, his chest heaving.

 

Stiles breathes through his nose, happy to wait for Derek, even though his cock feels painfully hard, still nestled so snug and tight inside Derek.

 

“Mmmm,” Derek rumbles, satisfied and slow, the very picture of sexual satisfaction, and it makes Stiles gasp. Everything about Derek seems to have that effect on him. Eventually Derek comes around enough to lean forward again, the sensations on Stiles' cock both amazing and maddening, and Derek lovingly pets his cheek.

 

“Now you,” he says, voice rusty, and then goes to work on Stiles' nipples with both hands. Because Stiles might know Derek's sensitive spots, but Derek sure knows Stiles' too. Lightning shoots through his gut, and his hips move on their own, chasing the feeling, and Derek grinds down to meet every small, frantic thrust.

 

“Yeah,” Derek sighs. “Just like that. Wanna feel you come in me. Fucking love it.” He follows up his filthy words with almost brutal pinches to both nipples, and it's exactly what Stiles needs. He comes with a shout, pulling Derek down as hard as he can, the urge to go deeper impossible to ignore, and Derek hums with pleasure, and gently clenches around him until Stiles winces, spent and sensitive.

 

“Fucking beautiful,” he wheezes, because he's still flying pretty high. But Derek doesn't seem to mind, leaning down for a kiss and a snuggle, and yeah, Stiles is gonna stick to it. No back-peddling here.

 

Derek Hale is beautiful. So there.

 

End.

 


End file.
